Aunt Bessie Invites (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 9) (22 page)

An appreciative murmur went through the
group as Carol ushered the first four people in the queue into the café.

“What is a pie special?” John asked Bessie
in a whisper.

“I’ve no idea,” Bessie replied quietly.
 

A few minutes later, Carol had found tables
for everyone in front of them and turned her attention to Bessie and John.

“Ah, it’s Bessie, isn’t it?” she asked,
smiling brightly at the pair.

“It is, yes,” Bessie replied.

“You came in with Mary when we were first
open,” Carol said.
 
“That was only a
few months ago, but it seems forever.”

“You’re much busier now than you were then,”
Bessie said.
 
“And deservedly so, if
the food is half as good as I remember.”

“We’re doing almost too well,” Carol said
with a laugh.
 
“I’m quite run off my
feet.
 
We’re looking to hire some
more help and we’ve been able to pay back a large portion of what George and
Mary invested with us, as well.
 
It’s been a crazy few months.”

“I’m so happy for you,” Bessie told the
girl.
 

“But you want a table,” Carol said.
 
She looked back into the restaurant and
then smiled.
 
“Give me one minute,”
she told Bessie and John.
 

Bessie watched from the doorway as the girl
cleared away plates from a small table for two in a quiet corner.
 
The couple at the table paid their bill
and then collected their things.
 
Bessie moved out of the way to let them exit the café.
 
A moment later, Carol was back.

“Here we go,” she said, leading John and
Bessie to the table.
 
“As I said,
today’s special is all about dishes with pie in the name.
 
Our main course special is a sampler
plate with shepherd’s pie, cottage pie, steak and kidney pie, and fish
pie.
 
Our pudding sampler is a slice
of American-style apple pie, a small mince pie, and a piece of lemon tart pie.”

“Lemon tart pie?” Bessie asked.

Carol
laughed
 
“Okay, it’s a lemon tart.
 
We ran out of puddings with pie in the
name, so we cheated, just a little bit.
 
It’s really too early for mince pies as well, but no one has
complained.”

“I won’t complain, either,” Bessie told
her.
 
“I’ll have both of the sampler
plates, although I might need my sweet course packed up to go.”

Carol nodded.
 
“We can do full-sized servings of any of
the specialty items, if you’d rather not have the sampler,” she told John.
 
“Or we have our regular menu.”
  
She gestured towards the printed
menus on the table.

“Oh, no, I’ll try the sampler as well,”
John
told here.
 
“Just the main course one for now.
 
I’m not sure I’ll have room for pudding.”

Carol smiled.
 
“As Bessie said, you can always take it
home,” she told him.
 
“What about
drinks?”

They both asked for tea before Carol rushed
away.
 
Bessie sat back and watched
for a few minutes as the girl raced around the room, delivering drinks and food
and taking orders.
 
The small queue
at the door grew again as people lingered over their meals and the delicious
sweets.

“It certainly is a lot busier now than it
was the last time I was here,” Bessie told John.

“They could use at least one more person out
here,” John replied.

A moment later a tall and muscular man
emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray.
 
He headed straight for Bessie.

“Tea for two?” he asked, grinning at them.

“Yes, but aren’t you meant to be cooking?”
Bessie asked.

“Everything is ticking over nicely in the
kitchen,” he assured her.
 
“And
Carol is run off her feet out here.”

“John, this is Dan, Carol’s husband, and the
wonderful chef here,” Bessie performed the introductions.

“It’s a pleasure,” Dan said, shaking hands
with John.
 
“But I better get back
to it or Carol might start to realise how much easier I have it than she does.”

“I don’t believe that,” Bessie laughed.

“Now, what can I do for you?” Bessie asked
John after her first sip of tea.

“What makes you think I want something?”
John asked.

Bessie smiled at him.
 
“I’m sure you’d love to take me to lunch
on a regular basis, just for the pleasure of my company, but I know you’re too
busy to do that, especially in the middle of a murder investigation.
 
So what’s going on?”

John laughed.
 
“I’m going to have to start taking you
to lunch for no reason just so you stop being so suspicious of me,” he
said.
 

Bessie smiled.
 
“But…” she said suggestively.

“But you’re right, I did want to talk to you
about the case,” John admitted with a sigh.
 
“And I wanted to get away from the
station for a little while as well.”

“I gather Inspector Lambert wouldn’t approve
of your talking to me,” Bessie said.

John shrugged.
 
“She has her own way of doing things,”
he replied.
 
“And she doesn’t
believe in involving civilians in murder investigations.
 
I have to say that I tend to agree with
her, as well.
 
But when it comes to
Laxey, well, you’re my very best source of information.
 
Sometimes some civilians can be
incredibly useful.”

Bessie nodded.
 
“I’m always happy to help,” she said.

“Yes, well, that’s why we’re here,” John
told her.
 
“It will be in the papers
tonight, so I’m not giving anything away, but the body at the Clague farm has
been positively identified.”

“Jacob Conover?” Bessie asked.

“Yes,” John said.

Before Bessie could answer, Carol was there,
delivering plates full of steaming hot food.

“Everything looks wonderful,” Bessie
exclaimed as she looked over the plate.

“Enjoy, and let me know if you need
anything,” Carol told them.

For several minutes the pair focussed on
their meals.
 
“The shepherd’s pie is
my favourite,” Bessie said after a while.

“I like the steak and kidney,” John told
her.
 
“I never do that at home.”

“Even the fish pie is good, and I’m not a
huge fan of fish,” Bessie replied.

“The crust is very flaky, which gives it a
wonderful texture,” John said.

Bessie laughed.
 
“We sound like food critics,” she said.

“I hope that doesn’t mean you don’t like
it,” Dan’s voice surprised Bessie.

“It’s all wonderful,” Bessie told him.
 
“It’s just way too much food.”

“We can box up whatever you can’t finish,”
Dan offered.

“Oh, I think I’ll probably finish it all,”
Bessie replied.
 
“But I won’t have
room for anything else.”

“We’ll box up your puddings,” Dan said.
 
“And I’ll add a sheet with instructions
for how best to serve them.”

Bessie grinned.
 
“If you were within walking distance of
my cottage, I’d eat here every day,” she told the man.

“We were actually talking about relocating into
Laxey,” Dan said.
 
“We’re kind of
out of the way here.”

“That doesn’t seem to be hurting your
business,” Bessie said, glancing around the still full restaurant.

“No,” Dan agreed.
 
“So maybe we’ll stay where we are, at
least for now.”

When Carol came to clear their empty plates,
John agreed that he’d take a pudding sampler home with him as well.

“So now that you know who you’ve found, does
that change anything?” Bessie asked.

“It certainly narrows down the
possibilities,” John said.
 
“Jacob’s
sister is coming over on the late ferry tonight.
 
It will be interesting to see what she
has to say, although I don’t expect her to be much help.”

“Didn’t you say that she didn’t even know he
was on the island?” Bessie checked.

“That’s what she said when I spoke to her on
the telephone,” John replied.

“It would be better if he’d sent lots of
long letters back to her all about his stay here,” Bessie said.
 

“It would indeed,” John agreed.
 
“But at least we can get more background
from her.”

“You said she might like to meet me,” Bessie
recalled.

“I told her I’d try to set up meetings for
her with a few people who remember her brother,” John said.
 
“I’ve included you on the list of people
we’re going to visit.”

“Who else is she going to meet?” Bessie
asked.

“Mona Kelly Smythe has agreed to meet with
her,” John told her.
 
“She said she
has nothing but fond memories of the man and she’s a widow, so there’s no one
to get jealous or upset if she talks about him.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Bessie
said.
 
“I suppose some of the women
he spent time with would rather their husbands didn’t know about it.”

“That’s what we keep running into,” John
replied.
 
“Some women simply don’t
want to talk about their youthful flirtations.”

“I wonder if Fenella is keeping quiet so as
not to upset Eoin,” Bessie mused.
 
“I can’t help but think she must have known the man.
 
At the time it seemed like he went with
every girl around her age.”

“Jacob’s sister would like to meet them and
also Niall,” John said.
 
“Since
their farm is where the body was found.”

“I wouldn’t recommend letting her meet
Niall,” Bessie said.
 
“He’s very
easily confused and upset.”

John nodded.
 
“Fenella told me the same thing,” he
said.
 
“I’m going to take Jane to
meet with Fenella and Eoin and to see where the body was found, but I’ve told
her she can’t meet Niall.”

“So what time should I expect you tomorrow?”
Bessie asked.

“I think probably some time after two,” John
said, flipping through his notebook as he spoke.
 
“She arrives tonight and we’re visiting
the farm in the morning.
 
I thought
I’d take her to lunch somewhere before we come to see you.”

“That sounds good,” Bessie agreed.
 
“I’ll bake some biscuits or something
and we can have tea.”

John nodded.
 
Carol arrived then with two small
boxes.
 
“Here you are,” she said brightly.
 
“Your sweet course, all ready to
go.
 
Dan’s included heating
instructions for the items that are best warm.”

After John paid the bill, the pair headed
back out into the autumn sunshine.
 
He helped Bessie into the car and then drove her back to her cottage.

“Thank you for a lovely lunch,” she told her
at her door.

“Thank you for joining me.”

“I don’t feel as if I helped at all,” Bessie
said.
 
“We hardly even discussed the
case and I didn’t tell you anything new.”

“But we’ve sorted out a meeting tomorrow
with Jacob’s sister,” John reminded her.
 
“I’m sure she’ll tell you more than she’ll tell me.
 
You can chat with her about her brother
while I take a walk on the beach or something.”

Bessie nodded.
 
“I just hope I can find out something
useful,” she said.
 
“It sort of
feels as if this is an impossible case.”

“It was a long time ago and our most
important witness isn’t capable of helping,” John said.
 
“This one might end up in the cold case
file for a very long time.”

Bessie frowned as she let herself into her
cottage.
 
She hated the thought that
someone might get away with murder, even if the killer was poor old Niall
Clague, who certainly could never be tried, even if John found evidence of his
guilt.
 
For once Bessie’s answering
machine light was steady.

“Ha, no one even missed me,” she said as she
put her pudding box on the counter.
 
Before she could move, however, the phone rang.
 
She laughed at herself as she picked up
the receiver.